


Jammed

by Sharcade



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Comfort, Desperation, Embarrassment, Fetish, Humiliation, Omorashi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-24 20:39:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14961773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharcade/pseuds/Sharcade
Summary: Connor makes some bad decisions and Hank gets stuck in traffic.





	Jammed

Connor was a complex machine.

Though he could sleep, he would never get tired. Though he could breathe, he would never suffocate. Though he could drink, he could never get  _drunk,_ as Hank soon discovered. He was a good drinking partner, mainly because he could always drive home, and often did. However, there were such occasions where Hank wondered if Connor really was impossible to inebriate, or if he was just  _difficult_ to inebriate. He would often catch Connor with just a little less composure than normal, just a tiny slip up or a hand that wasn't quite deft enough gave away that alcohol had some kind of equally poisoning effect on Connor's systems.

So, that being said, when had stopped into a nearby bar with a suspect to talk over several, several drinks, Hank hadn't been particularly surprised when he staggered out just a tiny bit off balance.

"I'm thinkin' maybe I should be the one driving us home." Hank smirked, swinging his keys on his finger before catching them in his palm.

"That would likely be safest." Connor agreed, his voice as clear and conducted as ever.

Anybody but Hank wouldn't have thought he was drunk for even a second.

"Alright, hop in, we gotta get a move on if we're gonna skip the traffic."

"Of course." Connor affirmed, getting into the passenger seat and closing the door as he buckled his seat belt.

"So, drinking with a suspect? You'll really do anything to get a fucker to talk, huh?" Hank questioned, pulling away from the bar as he began the short drive home.

"Of course. What matters most is acquiring vital information." Connor responded, though his attention definitely seemed elsewhere. "The suspect was willing to talk if it was over drinks that I would pay for."

"Waste of money if you ask me." Hank muttered distractedly, eyeing Connor up and down. 

Something was definitely offsetting the android.

"Shit, there she is." Hank groaned, pulling the car to a slow as he entered the sweeping traffic jam that had gathered on the road. 

Connor's LED flickered yellow, his eyes scanning the area around them in what appeared to be a frenzied action. Detroit was a fairly bustling city, it wasn't a shock to see that they were surrounded on all sides by both cars and public, people bustling about buildings in the busy setting. Hank watched curiously as Connor furrowed his brow, tapping his finger lightly on his leg. 

"You good there?"

"I'm fine." Connor assured quickly, blinking rapidly for a moment as he scanned their surroundings. "Traffic has slowed due to an accident up ahead combined with serious bottle-necking. We likely will not be home for a while."

"Oh you've gotta be fuckin' kidding me..." Hank muttered, sighing and rubbing his head as he leaned back in his seat. "Get comfy I guess."

Connor shifted slightly, resting one hand on his lap and the other under his chin as he stared out the window. The car was fairly silent, save for the occasional sound of Connor readjusting his position. The android was never so fidgety, he was always calm, always conducted, always stoic. This was unusual, even for somebody who gave him as many surprises as Connor.

"You sure you're good? Lookin' a little distracted there."

"Certain rudimentary systems in my body are proving to be inconvenient." Connor answered curtly, clearly not wanting to explain any further.

"Systems? You broken or some shit? Need me to call CyberLife?"

"My systems are functioning completely correctly." Connor mumbled, tapping his foot at a surprising pace. "That is more or less the issue."

Hank squinted suspiciously, raising an eyebrow as he looked over Connor. Then it clicked.

"Holy shit. This is rich, do you need to piss?"

"That's a very  _blunt_ way of putting it, but if I had to compare it directly to a human bodily function, yes." Connor corrected shortly.

Now that this was open knowledge, Connor didn't hesitate to cross his legs, bouncing his knee slightly as he continued to stare out the window distractedly. Hank couldn't help but feel for the kid, it was never fun to be stuck in traffic when you had to piss, especially traffic that wasn't moving an inch.

"We're not goin' anywhere any time soon, nothing's stoppin' you from just running into one of those stores real quick." Hank suggested, glancing between Connor and the road. "Hell, I didn't even know androids could piss."

"Firstly, using a store restroom would put me at risk of both being left behind if traffic moved, and being harassed by human protesters. A large portion of android assaults take place in public restrooms." Connor informed. "Secondly, androids are equipped with a full digestive system to purge unwanted material. Rudimentary as it may be, I am able to process liquids as long as they are able to leave my body soon after."

"And if they don't leave your body soon after?"

"They  _will_ leave my body soon after. It is not an optional ending."

"Oh. Well fuck, kid."

"Fuck indeed." Connor muttered, pressing his hand down on his lap slightly and drumming his fingers. 

Hank inched forward on the road. 

"Well do you think you can hold off until we get home or-?"

Connor paused for a moment, likely processing the event in his head for possible outcomes.

"...That is dependant on the movement of traffic." he answered finally.

"Well it doesn't look like we're budging."

"I've noticed."

"You're not gonna get like, damaged or anything, right?"

"No, my urinary system is designed so as to not backflow. If too much liquid enters my storage, it simply purges."

"So you piss yourself."

"You seem to like explaining things extremely bluntly, Lieutenant."

Hank kept an eye on Connor as they crept through traffic, Connor was beginning to look more and more bothered. The android hadn't looked Hank in the eye once since they got in the car. Hank could tell he was trying to keep still from the way almost every part of his body had gone awkwardly stiff, though Hank also couldn't help but notice the way Connor bounced his leg and adjusted his sitting position every few seconds.

"Shit-!"

Hank jumped slightly in surprise at Connor's suddenly bullet-fast movements. In an instant he was sitting up straight, both hands jammed between his legs as he tried to quickly gain a stronger level of control. 

"Apologies for cursing." he muttered quickly, brushing a few strands of hair away from his face.

"Does it hurt or anything?"

"Not badly." Connor assured hesitantly, pressing his hands harder against his lap. "But it is causing negative emotional impacts."

"Yeah?"

"Humiliation, I believe."

"Oh, kid." Hank muttered sympathetically, rubbing Connor's shoulder. "Don't worry about it, we'll be outta here soon."

"I believe I've consumed over 800 millilitres of liquid." Connor stated, a slight tremble in his voice giving away his distress to Hank.

"Jesus. A heavy drinker."

"When necessary."

Finally the car began to roll forward at a moderate pace, Connor stiffening quickly as a small leak escaped him. Hank could have sword he saw Connor pale, the android pressing down harder into his lap and balling his hands into fists as he tried to regain control over his system. His hands were trembling slightly with the amount of energy he was using up trying to contain himself, his eyes frantically scanning the traffic ahead of him.

"We're movin' again, we'll be home in no time." Hank coaxed, though he couldn't help but notice the small wet spot that had appeared on Connor's pants before Connor had managed to stop it.

Yet of course, Connor noticed Hank's gaze, frantically pulling off his blazer and covering his lap with it as he resumed holding himself.

"Probability of success is low." Connor muttered shakily, quickly scanning out the window.

Even if he had chosen to run into a store and use their bathroom, it was too late now that traffic was moving, and he was trapped again. Connor let out a short sigh and closed his eyes tightly, his systems weren't used to being physically restricted like this. It was beginning to become painful. His LED flickered yellow.

Hank pulled ahead, passing a few cars as he was finally able to pick up some reasonable driving speed. 

"Alright, now we're moving." Hank assured, his eyes flickering between Connor and the road. "You sure that doesn't hurt?"

"It didn't before." Connor breathed quietly, Hank could tell this was starting to become exhausting for him.

"Hell, Connor, if it's fuckin' hurting you, just let go."

"Wh-What-?!"

The very idea seemed to startle the android, who quickly struggled to regain control.

"Lieutenant, your car-"

"Drinks just go straight through you, right? It's not like it's piss. This car already smells like whiskey, who cares about a little more fuckin' whiskey in the seats? I've puked in this car."

"My suit-"

"You're already gonna need to wash that suit." Hank reminded pointedly, Connor furrowing his brow.

"But-"

"Connor. I don't want you fuckin' hurting yourself."

"We're almost  _home_ Lieutenant." Connor insisted, his fidgeting having increased drastically at the thought of being able to release.

Hank sighed, reluctantly dropping the proposition as he sped up the car. Connor was right of course, they were almost home, but he didn't want the android in pain. 

"Hank-" Connor started, swallowing. "I-I would like to formally request you redact this event from any conversations you have in the future."

"Of course, I'm not an asshole."

"Thank you."

Connor's face seemed to light up as Hank pulled into the driveway, parking the car. He hastily undid his seat belt, Hank getting out of the car as Connor rushed to do the same before freezing up and sitting back down. Hank eyed Connor curiously from outside the car, opening the android's door.

"You coming?"

Connor was silent for a moment, clearly trying to pick the right words to follow that question.

"I-I...am not sure if I'll be able to stand up without experiencing a-" Connor paused again, thinking. "A  _momentary lapse in control._ "

Hank sighed, grabbing Connor by the arm and helping him up extremely carefully. Connor practically had a death grip on Hank's hand and Hank could easily feel how hot Connor's core temperature had risen to with the amount of energy it was expending. 

"H-Hank-!" Connor gasped sharply, practically doubling over as he pulled his hand back to his lap.

Standing up had been too much, and Connor was trembling so hard with effort that Hank worried he might just shut down.

"Look, we're out of the car, just-" Hank gestured awkwardly. "Let go."

That affirmation seemed to be the last thing Connor need. Exhaustedly, he dropped to his knees, giving up completely on holding anything anymore as he released, Hank's hand still lingering on his shoulder.

"I-I'm sorry," Connor began quickly as his stream trickled to an end. "I really did try, i-it was-"

"I know kid, I know, no worries." Hank assured as he helped Connor to his feet. "But  _hell_ you smell like whiskey. You wanna go get cleaned up?"

"Th-That would be... _optimal._ "


End file.
